Stepmother and her adopted child

My sister sent me a message “Just check this out” and sent  me a link. We always send to each other hilarious internet jokes, pictures and posts. But this message was different.

I opened the link and it took me to facebook profile of a young girl. There were tons of her selfies. Literally, tons. She has long curled hair, applies showy make-up, wears sexy dresses, highheeled shoes, looks pretty bitchy but beautiful.

“Ok, sis, so who the hell is that chick?”

“She… He is Alex.”

Whaaaat?! Alex? I haven’t seen this little boy for few years already… He was 12 or 13 then.

Our family friends adopted him and his brother when they were kids. They were living in a small village. The Real village where people wake up at 4 a.m. and go to their farms, feed cows, horses, chickens and etc… And then spend the whole day gardening, planting, watering…. And then again go back to the farm. The real village where women wear scarfs, long skirts, flat shoes and no makeup. The Real village where rural customs still obtain.

I remember that little boy playing with cats and dreaming to become a pet doctor one day. I remember him hugging his stepmother and telling her she is the best. I remember her red chicks and eyes full of happiness.

Few months ago I accidently met her at the friends house. She had some wine, tried hard to smile and relax, but I noticed that she was completely lost and frustrated.

She took some more wine and poured like a rain her misery out. 

Her lovely son didn’t visit them anymore. Sometime he called and asked for money  crying that he has no money to come home and see her. When she sent money to him he just didn’t come. Just switched off his phone until the next “mommysendmemoney” call. He was already 17 then. He got a full-scholarship from the government and moved to the big city for studying at the college.

One day he came to the village. Hw came With his boyfriend. Can you imagine the shock of these poor village people?

Maybe they were even paralyzed for a while. I can even imagine the black-and-white cows stop chewing the green green grass and staring at the drama scene.

All the rural mentality of his family was completely crushed. 

– “He was nice…” – she said weeping-ripe, – “his boyfriend was nice. And they looked happy and I thought to myself “okay… he is my lovely son, I want him to be happy… It ishischoice, his life. I just want him to visit me, to call me.”.

To be honest, it was a deed of a hero. It was very very very hard for her to admit that her son was a gay. 

It was unbelievebly hard to get this, to admit this, to dont give a fuck about what the neighbours will gossip…. For her who was born and grew up in these super rural customs.

So she cried. She was happy he came back.


He left the city with his new transexual friend. He took all the money his stepmother had saved for him. He wasted everyfucking cent and called her asking to sent him some money to buy a ticket to come back home.

She said : “Tell me where are you and I will buy a ticket for you”

He said: “Fuck off with your goddamned help”.



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